


Guidance

by ddynoliaeth



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Counselling, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2015-01-30
Packaged: 2018-03-09 16:49:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3257225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddynoliaeth/pseuds/ddynoliaeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel and Dean pretend to be a couple in need of counselling for a case, and feelings bubble to the surface despite them both. </p><p>Originally a prompt fill on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guidance

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this please consider commissioning me to write some fic for you!  
> http://vincenoir.tumblr.com/post/161648060242/hey-so-im-severely-strapped-for-cash-at-the

Dean grumbled. He bitched and moaned and whined without pause as Sam forced him into the passenger's side of his baby's bench seat, refusing to untangle his arms from across his chest and prompting Sam to wrestle the seatbelt over him like a child. Castiel slid into the driver's side, invisibly put out by Dean's objections. They weren't unexpected.  
"Come on, Dean, stop acting like you're five and put your belt on," Sam huffed, frustration building at his brother's naïve behaviour. Castiel chuckled into his shoulder as he reached behind him to pull his own belt across his body.  
"You want this bitch caught so badly, you go with Cas and I'll deal with the kid," Dean spat petulently. The child in question was watching with a frown from the motel window, face and hands squished up against the glass, smearing the already grotty pane with the usual fluids a three year old leaks.  
"He dislikes you, Dean," Cas reminded him. "It is best you assist me with finding and returning his parents from the counselling centre, rather than subjecting both Kyle and yourself to the discomfort of your continued company."  
"Break it to me gently, why don't you Cas."  
The former angel tilted his head in confusion, opening his mouth to ask some innocuous yet annoying question about Dean's wording, but closed it again as he was interrupted by the slam of the car door. Sam had slipped Dean's seatbelt over him and clipped it on while he was distracted with decoding Castiel's comments, and grinned triumphantly as he waved them off down the road. The snot-nosed brat in their motel room blew a raspberry at the retreating car. 

"So, Misters Winchester. Why have you decided to come see me today?"  
The friendly smile of the counsellor seemed to mock Dean as he sat as far from Cas as the plush blue couch would allow. She was thirty, tops, with pitch black hair twisted into a bun at the back of her head. A little stuffy and uptight for him, maybe, but better than focusing on the implications of sitting in couple's counselling with the blue eyed angel he'd been having rather impure dreams about in recent weeks. Besides, Dean reasoned, he needed to watch out for any hint to whether this was the demon that had an obsession with troubled couples that had taken Kyle's parents.  
"My husband and I have been experiencing some difficulties relating to each other," Castiel supplied when Dean refused to answer.  
"Difficulties how?" The counsellor crossed her ridiculously long legs and squinted at the pair. Castiel glanced at the hunter beside him, frowning in confusion when Dean entirely ignored her skirt's raised hemline. He was focused on picking apart the upholstery on the couch.  
"I feel as if he does not understand me when I try to express my feelings," Cas replied. He paused, unsure if his next words would be wise. "And he never touches me any more."  
Dean whipped around, stiff as a metal rod, eyes wide. Castiel stared directly ahead at the counsellor, avoiding Dean's incredulous glare. The counsellor herself nodded, writing on the notepad in her lap, face shadowy as the light poured in from the wall length window behind her.  
"These are rather common issues, Mister Winchester," she said, throwing a grin at Castiel. "Easily overcome. And what about you, Mister Winchester?" She turned to Dean. "What problems have you noticed when interacting with Castiel?"  
Dean shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with her expectant gaze, his own scripted line of questioning out the tall window behind her after Cas' little ad-libbed comment.  
"Uhh, I guess, um, sort of the same things? I dunno it's uhh..." he trailed off, scratching behind his head and glancing at Castiel. The former angel was watching him expectantly, his blue eyes seeming sharper than usual as Dean tried not to accidentally reveal his secret feelings. "I guess we were a little more, I dunno, it felt more special back when. It feels stale, I guess. Like we're not really moving anywhere."  
He cringed, realising he'd all but admitted his desire to move towards more than friends. Castiel's expression was enigmaticly unreadable.  
"Well, I believe I have some ways to combat these issues you two have. If you will." 

Castiel stood facing Dean, staring hard at the hunter's freckles and gripping his hands far too tight. The counsellor flitted about around them, correcting Castiel's posture to be more relaxed, directing Dean's head to face forward, loosening their hands joined between them. Her psychological nattering failed to register in Castiel's mind, focused as he was on the blush creeping across Dean's cheeks. The red swallowed his usual tanned tone, making the freckles more noticeable, easier to count. He had far too many: Castiel still lost his place around thirty.  
The exercise was supposedly intended to emulate the emotions of their wedding, but instead caused unwanted forlorn feelings to rise in Castiel's gut. They had never had a wedding. He found himself wondering what kind of cake they would have if they did.  
"Now, Castiel, tell Dean how you're feeling right now," the counsellor instructed. Cas' back stiffened again, his hands gripping ever so slightly tighter than their corrected soft hold. They stood for long moments in silence.  
"Dean," Castiel began, his mouth dry. "I feel disconnected from you. I am unable to explain why, to understand why, but I feel you have been pulling away from me these last few weeks. It saddens me. I feel lonely even though you stand here with me. I do not understand and I do not know how to fix this."  
The counsellor nodded, smiling, and looked with anticipation to Dean. He glanced at her, disquieted by her constant presence and scrutiny. Cas' gaze, while more intense, felt far less confronting. Comforting, even. Warm.  
"I dunno what to say, Cas. There's... I mean I'm feeling... it's just really complicated. I'm scared I'm gonna tell you some stuff and it's gonna make you freak and bail. I don't want that."  
"I will not leave you again, Dean," Castiel assured him, voice and expression determined. Barely comforted, Dean continued.  
"I know there's a lot of stuff going on right now, and I know you've got other junk you've gotta focus on, but I kinda miss you. I miss having you around. I miss the way you stare at me. I miss you not getting my jokes. I miss you not understanding personal space. I miss-"  
AC/DC interrupted Dean's speech. He scrambled in his pocket for his phone, answering it with a hint of frustration in his voice. The counsellor frowned, clearly put out by his distraction, looking with worry at Castiel. Dean hung up.  
"You know, I think we're done here," he said, grabbing Castiel's hand again and dragging him towards the door. The counsellor watched on in confusion.  
"But, we haven't even begun to-"  
The door swung shut loudly in her face. 

"Sam says we were looking in the wrong place. He caught the sonofabitch and Kyle's home with dear old Mama and Papa."  
Dean stood leaning against the Impala in the counselling centre's parking area, hand still absently wrapped around Castiel's wrist. Cas stared at it, savouring the feeling of the fingers gripping his skin as they did his hand in the counsellor's office.  
"Dean?"  
"Yeah?"  
"Did you mean what you said? About missing me?"  
Dean looked at Castiel, really looked at him. The old angel seemed vulnerable, fragile, as if a lie in this moment would cause his newly human heart to break. Dean opened his mouth to deny it, to say that it was all an act, that he wasn't gay, that a million things that weren't true.  
Instead, he whispered "yes".  
Castiel smiled.  
Dean tasted it.  
Cas' lips were softer than he expected, like the skin of a ripe plum, and tasted of toothpaste and the burger he had for lunch and saliva. His hair was a little greasy, but just the right length. His stubble hurt, but hurt in a pleasant burn. He smelled of burning candles and the counsellor's office.  
Dean's lips were chapped. Dean's hair was too short but so soft. Dean tasted like cheap beer and chips. Dean smelled like leather and motor oil and gunpowder and perfection. Dean was perfection.  
Castiel pulled away first, unused to needing oxygen as he was and unable to stand the burn of airlessness for as long as Dean in favour of their kiss. Dean followed his lips, reaching with his own for more. Cas chuckled, quiet, shy. Dean grinned at him, gripped the back of his head, kissed him again.  
"I don't miss you any more, Cas."


End file.
